Lots of parentheses and repetition for effect.

Like some, I've been overwhelmed by the devastation in Sri Lanka, Thailand and Indonesia (and others) and there are times when we are paralyzed by the enormity and the loss. To get an idea of the destruction left by this tsunami, this series of images will set you straight. If you can muster together enough cash, I'm sure you can make a donation to the Red Cross - they purchase local goods to provide aid to communities, which in turn keeps local economies stable by not saturating the market with foreign goods.

On a lighter note, L and I will be heading out tomorrow morning to catch the 9:00 AM sailing, and hopefully R and G will hook up with us since they are presumably taking the same ferry. We left my grandma's card and gift at my parent's house (ouch) but my dad might drop it off before we book it. We had a great time at my folk's place, well, we had a long lunch before (we were going to have breakfast but we bumped into K(!) last night while wandering downtown and I drank far, far too much at Big Bad Johns and a club he DJ's at. Lotsa fun we had, catching up and gossiping and everything!) and we dropped by for dinner (more like a feast) and played this fun family game called Break the Safe; a cooperative game where four players have to open a safe in thirty minutes. I will not go into the filthy details. My mom packed us a bunch of baked goods for the trip home. Thanks mom!

When we get back I plan to get the house in order, buy books, comics, clothes and a game (wheee!) and spend some time with my cat. I have no idea, really no idea, how to get my New Year's on. Why is there is this strange pressure to "do" something? I try to shake it off but I feel left out when I sit at home and read whatever books/surf the net/write something lame as people make drunken messes of themselves. I want to be a drunken mess.


I'm off to solve a mystery.

So, L and I arrived this afternoon, and I'm writing this from a hotel in Victoria my parents were nice enough to book for us. We feel extremely spoiled. My dad works here so he was able to swing a deal. The interior has been preserved in its original decor, like the main foyer and staircases. When I stepped into the hotel I felt as though it was 1911, and I was here to solve a series a gruesome murders, plus the disappearance of a rare artifact. Yeah, I know, I have a rich inner life. Apparently, Emily Carr died here, in fact on our floor, and her ghost can been seen crossing the hallway. The hotel was originally built to accomadate workers building the Empress Hotel and other projects, and the pub has been a gay bar, a biker hangout and a myriad of other identities.

I'm trying to hook up with friends but so far, no success. I think I took down a wrong number for C's cell phone, and another friend isn't home. So we're taking it easy in our hotel room. Here is a list what I got for X-mas, read'em and weep:

A chef's knife
S-cable adapator for the laptop
Chocolate, a ton of chocolate
A book on tofu and miso
$75 from my parents, plus some from my grandma (thanks granny!)
$25 gift card to Chapters/Indigo
A book on the illustrator who painted covers for Star Wars novels and other stuff
Fencing lessons! I start in January!
A desk!
A miniture house for a Christmas village
There is some other stuff but I can't remeber everything!

I think I'll pick up the Louis Riel graphic novel from Chester Brown, and Project Nomads (a neat-o game) and possibly a new jacket or jeans. Consume!


@))$: The Year of the Brain

As the year 2004 is smothered under a blanket of snow, then crushed like an overripe grape, I will give myself a few moments to reflect on the past year and my accomplishments.

Done. Let's move on.

I was rather fond of Warren Ellis' summary of this forgettable year, like most most years I've had in my short twenty-eight years. Well, it would be untrue if my current "reeducation" wasn't notable in the last three hundred and sixty-five days. I am relieved, and thankful, to return to the glorious halls of academia and drink the sweet, sweet nectar that oozes from. . .it's ooze-hole. I dunno. But it I do feel like a completed human, rather than trying to operate with missing parts, and I can complete projects with a degree of confidence reserved for generals and guys who work-out regularly (this is why I hate summer).

The political atmosphere for the next four years is going to be interesting. American politics has a way of affecting Canada, as our politicians attempt to appease the suited gorilla or resist whatever senseless (senseless to the public good, but it is a brilliant strategem for the wealthy and powerful) policies cooked up in the White House. Ottawa is not too keen on the whole Middle East occupation, plus Paul Martin has slung some dirt at the Americans on a few occasions - the support for gay marriage in Canada is totally hilarious, since many states despise the idea. I can't help but think this is Ottawa's way of giving the finger behind Goliath's back. Don't get me wrong, Martin is far from perfect. I am pleased that he picked up on the whole "U.S.A. is not O.K." vibe in Canada (in some parts, if not most) but the man needs to get off his ass and shake it a little. I will complain on this later.

But, 2004 will be remembered for the changes - my new school, my new house and my new computer, which I am typing on this very minute. I love you, lappy. I have gotten closer to my family, and L and I spent another year building our relationship, unless she is watching Christmas-themed sitcoms on cable. *shiver* I will vow to toss our television into the deepest ocean and watch it sink deeper and deeper into the cold abyss. Televisions should only be used for movies (film for you arty people) and the occasional video game.

And a brief note on Christmas traditions: as I live longer, I crave to forge my own holiday traditions. Meaning, I will indulge in rich foods, potent booze, and Silent Night, Deadly Night. Comics, books, laptop and games - together at last. Cheers!


Bow before my list!


I'm off to get some Christmas shopping done, so I'm bringing a cricket bat and a tazer to navigate through the downtown crowds. Or maybe I'll bring my cat and throw him at people's faces. Either way, I'm getting the goods and there isn't anything the public can do to stop me. I think I need to grab a bite, 'cause the low blood sugar is making me violent.

Last day of school was on Tuesday, although I finished classes last week I had four exams to write. English and anthropology went well, but my archaeology was a challenge - there was one question I didn't even have an answer for. I plowed through my history exam but the short essay question had me searching the ceiling for an answer. Luckily, I dug up some good lines.

OK, I'm off to get this shopping thing done. Wish me luck and I will return with anecdotes, boring or otherwise. Read my Christmas list! Bow before it!


More X-Mas Greed.

Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg


An Archive of Feelings by Ann Cvetkovich - These books were suggetions on the Le Tigre homepage, and I'm always up for new books. I totally missed them when they were here. Groan.

The Spanish Civil War - I liked writing my paper on this subject, so a reference of my own would be nice. I plan to write more on anarchist history and maybe even something on Canadian women who volunteered in Spain.

Chef's knife - 'Cause I gotta.

Hellboy DVD - I like the comic, so sue me.

Gangs of New York DVD - I like history, and yeah, this film tends to lean towards historicism. However, it's nice to see another vision of the past, one that is dirty, snarling, backstabbing, poor and political. Screw you, Road to Avonlea. I don't care if some uppity bourgeois pre-teen from the turn of the century soiled her bonnet, and needs to get a new one before the Huge Society Ball. I really couldn't care about the whining middle-class, or the boring super-rich that supposedly "shaped" nations. Gangs of New York argues that cities are built from the street up.

Fencing classes - En guarde!


Snow buries the campus

Hi. I just finished my last social theory class/final quiz awhile ago. I think I did alright, but two of the questions really stumped me. I also got my final paper back as well and lo and behold an A+ baby! I just spent the last two hours in the library studying for my archaeology final and I'm gonna make my way over for the staff dinner at six. I dig this job, and I'm looking forward to starting again in the winter semester. There's an offer to work inbetween the semesters but I need the time to take it easy and enjoy some reading, writing and goofing off. Yes, I've mentioned this before. I will be on the Island for the 15th, then off to the Valley for Christmas then back to the Island again for the 27th -28th. I'm thinking of hooking up with friends on the Rock to ingest malted beverages and set fires. . .I mean, go to church meetings. Fiery church meetings. We are a passionate bunch.

Okay, I going to clean up and head outta this campus, laters skaters.

PS: We got some light flurries this morning. Little flakes landed on my shoulders as I walked to school. Luckily, they were not dandruff.



Oh yeah, I want a digital camera for Christmas. A DIGITAL CAMERA!

comics and tea

I sense a trend. I work my ass off all week, go to a Saturday morning class then goof off on Sunday and update my blog. Fun.

Today is kind of an exception. I have a final quiz for social theory tomorrow so I have to review and catch up on material. But since C has just showed up for tea, I should finish this up while he reads Y: The Last Man #29. In summary, all is good. I need to got to the gym and lose some weight for the holidays, and I have to finish four exams and shop for Christmas presents. More later.


A kitchen party.

All my papers are done! I handed in my sociology and history paper in Thursday, and all I have left is a presentation (a critique of Triumph of the Will, pretty sensitive subject) and a film diary for anthropology on Saturday. I went out last night to the Arch and drank far too much and watched people dance. I felt really old. Not that I'm extra-super-old, but I really don't feel like being submersed in gyrating torsos and loud music anymore. I want a pub, with low wooden tables and a smokey ceiling. A fiddle and a guitar missing a string. A kitchen party.

Now I have to go out and buy cat food. Yep, that's an old person activity.


Livin' inna Material Werld


I have finished the English paper and now I'm finishing up the sociology paper tonight, giving me four days to complete my eight page history paper. I am dreaming about Christmas holidays already, despite my annoyance with the super-early Christmas ads everywhere. I plan to write, read, and play video games. And throw snowballs, weather permitting. My holiday wishlist:

Bizarro Comics: Hardcover

Flight: Book One

From Hell by Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell

Torso by Brian Michael Bendis

Espresso machine

New day pack: MEC Cragosaurus DayPack

Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic

Comic book box

Moby Dick by Herman Melville

Neal Stephensen's second and third installment of the Baroque Cycle

Any books by Louis-Ferdinad Celine

Introduction to Wine

See ya.



Saw Ghost in the Shell: Innocence. Meh.

Catch up, no ketchup.

I am so sorry. Things have been hectic since I got the new job. I just talked to my parents (I'm typing as I'm talking, again I'm sorry) and I realized that I haven't seen this old site in awhile. I'm in the midst of writing a paper so I will keep this in point form and remember to stay in touch.

1. I have been reading like fiend. School stuff aside, I've been reading some Robert Creeley and C.R.R. Martin. I'm looking forward to reading Stephenson's second book, which is already out. So is the third. I am behind.

2. School is going well. I'm a little behind on my history reading but otherwise I'm up to date. I'm in the middle of crunch time so it really sucks to be around me right now. For English, a comparison of Emily Dickinson and Edna St. Vincent Millay, for history a paper on the anarchist contribution in the Spanish Civil War and an analysis of two articles for social theory class.

3. I like work. I wish I didn't have to come in this week but, well, there's that whole responsibility thing. Stupid conscience.

4. On the domestic front, everything is running smoothly. It gets a little cold in the house and the heating is not altogether fabulous but we manage to survive. I haven't had a chance to do some serious cooking, but I plan to get back into cuisine from Provence and maybe experiment with sushi. I am wicked at making sushi.

5. Oh, comics. Um, let's see. . .I'm still addicted to Bendis's Daredevil and I want to pick up Torso. I picked up Warren Ellis's new book Ocean and I'm still waiting for Wanted, Ex Machina and We3 to finish up so we can all go home. I'm looking forward to Shaolin Cowboy, Daisy Cutter, and the Flight book that came out recently. I asked for Bizarro Comics for X-Mas.

And, Happy Birthday Dad!


This is the End.

It has been fun. I want to link my Livejournal (sp?) account with Friendster, and guldarnit I can't seem to link it with this here blog. I am still deciding whether I will continue writing in this space. I know more people on Livejournal, so it makes sense to write there full-time. I just wish this page wasn't sooo purty lookin'.

Work is fun - it keeps me off the streets and everything! I'm slowly catching up on schoolwork (for tonight, finish outline for English paper) and I'm looking forward to Cinemuerte this weekend. I'm defintely staying for the Exploitation Film Marathon Saturday night.



With Tom Waits tunes still swimming around in my head, I move through the week like. . .like. . .like something really very graceful. The new job is awesome. Tutoring for a paycheque rocks, and the atmosphere at the Learning Centre is pretty casual. I kinda like floating around and doing little tasks inbetween sessions with students. At first, I was all like "I ain't doin' no office monkey work", but I totally warmed up to it. It can be relaxing.

I must admit I'm a tad (how much is a tad?) behind on some of my readings, so I will have to buckle down, or up depending on circumstances, and get it done. Archaeology is still fun and I have a rich depth of understanding of my "hobby". Some of you good people are wondering, "how can archaeology/the other stuff you listed be a hobby?" For the most part, I read and discuss the stuff as much as possible, plus I follow stuff online if I can dig up a reliable source. Besides comics and books, I don't really collect or think about conventional hobbies. So, scholarly pursuits are fair game.


Tom Waits

Before I settle in for the night, I would like to point out that L and I just saw Tom Waits tonight, and it was incredible. We waited outside for him and the band, but he slipped past our nets even before we arrived at the entrance.

I will plan on entering more posts later; I am tired and and I have a class tomorrow, and my recent update is a very, very demanding.


rush the turkey

This weekend will be demanding and a little loud, so here is my post-Thanksgiving, um, post.

L and I will be over at her folks place for Sunday (although we will be leaving tomorrow) then head over to the Island Sunday night and then leave Monday night, while dragging around books and the laptop. I have two papers to finish plus I have to collect sources for my history class, two of which must be primary, and keep up with my short story.


New job.

I had my first two hours of work today, the last hour will commence in little more than half an hour. I had those first day jitters, the kind that shuts down the useful parts of your brain and you have no idea on what the hell your supposed to do, while your co-workers mill about like little happy dwarfs on their way to the mine or Baskin-Robbins. I always look forward to being busy, rather than looking the part.

I do have some worries, and guess what? I'm going to tell to you! Feel free to move along at this point.

Well, (my roommate begins those sentences where he is about to explain something with "well". Now I'm doing it. Fappo!) my main concern is the whole competency thing. I'm getting paid to do this, and I can't afford to screw up. There is a great deal of responsibility with this gig, maybe more than previous ones. And the responsibility does give me a stomach ache, and a pasty mouth. That could be dehydration though. Anyway, yeah, my worries are probably shared by those in super important jobs, but the spectre of low self-esteem and fear is crawling towards me. Help.


Party and a poem

I woke up drunk. A little drunk, but drunk nonetheless. We went to C's birthday party last night - it started to slide out of control when the party downstairs begun to bubble up to the top floor. Bottle(s) were smashed, and the treehouse was on its way to being defiled. L and I took off and I got oh so teary eyed at the enormity and beauty of the world on the bus, then shuffled my sorry butt into bed. Wrote this poem at the top of my staircase sipping tea last night:

I've heard that word
it becomes a lake of lights
floating on the surface of our
being, of our inability to die
when we tear our bars
away away how our sunken
poems clear-eyed girls walk
away from
my mouth is open
filled with crows
when your hands
fall on your thighs



I need to finish a paper today. And the roommate is acting weird, possibly concocting an evil scheme.



What an unexpected surprise.

On Saturday, K called me in the afternoon to tell me that my good buddy W was in town; they had been cycling around Burnaby Mountain and were about to attend a bike art show/street party. I made my way to K's house so we can all go together but. . .they weren't there! I walked over on my own and the boys arrived later, which is funny because they biked over, and little old me was bikeless. The party was awesome, especially the tank bike (two office chairs welded onto self-propelled homemade tank treads) plus other neat-o creations.

We drank too much, everyone danced like fools (except me, I ain't dancin' for no one) and we tried to take the five-person bike for a ride. Despite the creator's blessings, we were denied an exit. W and K doubled me back to K's house, which is fun and scary when inebriated, and was able to get a deal on our delivered pizza (gyros for the meat-eaters) when we discovered we were short by a few dollars. We woke up to T's glorious breakfast of fruit salad and homemade croissants (T totally thinks her croissants sucked, but I loved them! They were tasty! And homemade!) and after digging in K and T's garden, we were treated to a visit from C. Fun weekend.

Now I have to work on a paper. Hurray.


Spellcheck vs. Me

I'm waiting to see my English instructor, so I'm killing time in the library by making sure my blog is brimming with trivial details. I don't know her exact office number so I'm going to waltz into the English department and hunt around.

Anthropology class was fun, and we finished early! We had a quiz (I actually got to class to write it!) and I got 38 out of 40, that's like 95%-98% or something. I'm sure you folks out there have better math skills than I do. I would like to take biology some time, but I object to dissecting animals that were bred for that specific purpose. I've been meaning to send an email to the department head and get some information on alternatives.

Hm. I just remembered, I have history paper to work on.

J.(not me) called from the Learning Centre to confirm my interview. I have to bring in an essay and a research paper, plus a reference from one of my instructors. I got the reference, now I just have to pick two of my best papers. I don't have a true research paper, although my history paper from two terms ago may qualify (a comparative look at two non-fiction books) as a contender. The essay portion is not a problem.

I'm not reading anything too interesting, mostly school stuff and little snippets here and there. Still plowing through Stephenson, and reading some early twentieth century fantasy and contemporary media studies. Some Gramsci when I get a chance.

As of today names will not be written with a "." anymore, just the letter. The spellcheck has a hard time dealing with my flourishes.


Quick note.

My procrastination habit has seeped back into my life. I was wondering when it was going to show up. The day is totally wasted, and I have to grovel for a make-up quiz that I missed today. I'm in bad shape.


Just in point form.

I need to get some work done (currently on campus) so I will resort to point form in relaying an update on my sordid life.

1. School is going well, but the assignment crunch is just around the corner, plus exams. I'm going to look at primary source materials on the Sacco-Vanzetti trial in the twenties, and analyze my friend T.'s painting for social theory class.

2. I have to fulfill some doctor/dentist obligations.

3. I put in an application for the peer tutor job in Learning Centre, right here on campus. I'm scheduled for an interview next week. I've tutored before, but I only worked with adults with low literacy skills, not suave college kids. I'm totally up for the challenge; it's remarkable how many students have trouble writing essays. I mean, I'm no Shakespeare (more like a Byron) but even I know what a dangling modifier is.

4. In my last post, or two posts ago, I used the word "lurching" wrong. So. Embarrassed.

5. "Schoolwork is lurching behind me." That would be better.

6. My sleep schedule is back in black, now if only I can eliminate my bad eating habits.


Sorry about this, it's Sunday after all.

You know how you wake up early, like seven or seven-thirty, but you end up drifting back to sleep and wake up four hours later? If you know what I'm talking about, then you would get a picture of my morning. I admit I didn't exactly wake four hours later, but my morning was shot.

I'm currently drinking coffee, sewing up a couple of shirts, and planning to polish my boots (I only wear Blundstones these days) and do some homework. I have a chess date later; I'm trying to find a strong defense against R.'s opening.


bumblemumble. . .bumble, bed?

Fun day. Had an eight a.m. class, then headed to the comic shop to pick up Daredevil, Wanted, B.P.R.D. and Justice Society. Bumped into C. and watched movies. Had a veggie burger and beer for dinner. On the intar-net too long. Great big shout out to C. for taking me along. G'night.


September is a racy racecar

Fun classes today: poetry and archaeology. My poetry class is early (eight A.M. to be exact, that is soooo ungodly) and archaeology is at two, so I rushed home between classes and picked up some library books and ate lunch and washed my hair. I have tomorrow off but I will spend the time reading, doing laundry and dropping off forms to Financial Aid. Hopefully I can make the time to play some chess.

Stay free.


That's crazy.

So far I've had three different classes, with three different profs, and they've all professed (hehe) that individuals working in their field (anthropology, sociology and English) are strange, even a little crazy. Well, they are no more crazy than other folks working in a specific area, or have a unique hobby or something. You know who's really crazy? The people who kill and eat other people, and dance around wearing their victim's skin. That's crazy.


The world is a complaining costumed pizza burglar spouting film critiques.

Heh. I try to update this bad boy as much as possible these days, but with school work lurching on my shoulder (yes, I know - it's the first week and I shouldn't be whining too much, like those who complain when we turn the clocks back or forward an hour. It's only an hour people!) I often forget the important things: anonymous web surfers.

On that note, I just saw Spider-Man 2 again. One of the best super-hero film so far, next to Hellboy. I think Raimi had learned from previous filmmakers mistakes, like not deviating too far from the original story and adding some plausibility to the textures, colours and overall architecture of the film. Aunt May's house, Peter's apartment and Harry's penthouse all have distinct personalities that add a human dimension - they look and feel like living, breathing human spaces.

K. 's house got broken into again. That totally sucks, and it must be so uncomfortable staying in a house that doesn't feel safe.

Besides that, I'm about to dive into social theory and some archaeology. A big shout out to C. for coming over and hanging out with us. A truly fun guy.

Oh yeah, before I sign off, I should mention that we went out for pizza at Unc's (Uncle Fatih) and the pizza we had knocked Pizza Garden out of the ring. Little or no grease, generous and unique toppings, and now they have dessert pizzas. So, there is now a new contender - the place with no name downtown! Who will be emerge victorious? Stay tuned!


I *HEART* Vancouver

I've arrived home, safe and sound. I finished history class (which will be a lot of work, but I'm going to discuss The Triumph of the Will in class. That will be interesting to say the least) and took the train home. I picked up some beer and as I waited for the bus a woman informed me that because of the movie being shot, the buses were being diverted. So I walked down to see the spectacle and lo and behold, the Fantastic Four movie crew was setting up. What was weird is that Da Kine, the "head shop" in the neighbourhood, was busted, so the scene become surreal - a comic book movie set (a small public space was transformed into a park with a working water fountain) and a spontaneous pot rally were meshed together, with old hippies yelling at the cops and film crew members and extras hanging out drinking coffee or whatever. So I went out for curry.


A quick report:

I'm about to pick up books and eat. Busy day. Laptop came in yesterday and spent the afternoon getting it set up. Garageband is fun. See ya.


the first day, part two

We cleaned up, I picked up L., and the three of us checked out the Victory Square block party downtown. We were hoping to see our friend C., but alas, he was not there (where are you C.? We miss you!) so we headed to the pub for beer and veggie burgers. K. is an awesome dinner companion. When we finished up we headed to the park to share a Cuban cigar (courtesy of R. and G.) and watched the city live out its life.

There was some tragedy, though. On our way home home, L. and I saw a juvenile gull sitting in the middle of a busy road, and vehicles were trying to drive around him(er). We were wondering why the gull wasn't moving, and that's when I noticed that the bird's wing was broken. Then a SUV tried to swerve around the poor creature and just missed, bouncing the gull around. In a true heroic fashion, L. leapt into the road and picked up the gull and took him(er) across the street. Luckily, there was a security guard nearby who would take the gull and drive to the S.P.C.A. An elderly woman helped them properly tuck in the gulls injured wing. I remember some guy yelling "put'em out of his misery" and offered to do the grisly job, so I'm thankful that L. was there to save the day.

If you live in the Lower Mainland and see an injured wild animal, contact these folks.


the first day, part one

The first day of school.

All I have to do is write this simple sentence and everyone will understand the complex connations associated with it.

I'm still reeling from my last day of summer, that being Labour Day. Well, not the actual last day of summer, but my free-wheeling days are over for now. On Sunday I got a call for R., who has been on a two week expedition in Cuba with his lovely girlfriend G. They had landed in Toronto, and I remembered that I offered them our place to crash when they arrived, which would be around midnight. Unfortunately, their flight was delayed, and they may miss the last bus into town. So, L. and I, while at a lovely barbecue (thanks J. and J.) decided that we would surprise our friends and show up at the airport to pick them up. After our soiree L. booked a car and we made our way to the airport. When R. and G. saw us at the arrival gate, the look on their faces was classic.

The next day, after a leisurely breakfast, and a stimulating conversation (any opportunity for me to talk about the anthropology of narrative building is a good one) they left for the Island. Oh, I should mention that when I say (write?) Island, I mean Vancouver Island.

While we were entertaining R. and G., my friend K. called and we arranged to get together and rebuild the fence in his backyard. The fence has the ardenous task of separating K.'s house with the alley, but the sucker is leaning so badly he has to tie it down like a overactive dog. Minutes after R. and G's departure, K. and T. came by to pick me up. K. and I dumpstered some two-by-fours from a demo site nearby, and set off to work: we removed the fence and re-nailed it, dug four holes (two for each side of the jamb, the posts were nearly composted), nailed the two-by-fours to each side of the posts, poured quick-dry concrete into the holes then refilled them. The job about three and half hours. We were dirty, tired, hungry, and had rebuilt a fence using second hand materials.


If I were a superhero, this is would I would see.


What the heck?

I'm collecting the Hellboy trades, and I've started reading Daredevil. I sense a theme emerging.


Sad fly.

The laptop was ordered the other day, so I'm expecting it here in one to three weeks. Great.

Lately I've been interested in pulp sci-fi magazines, and their luscious covers. I found a neato site that has an impressive collection of pulp art. I have a small, nebulous idea for a comic or possibly short stories, that echo this genre's qualities. I see some potential for exploring gender roles, technology, and ethics in contemporary society. I want to scrap the film script for now and focus on the penny dreadfuls and the comic. For those who don't know, penny dreadfuls were the Victorian version of the pulp novel. They were serialized (some of them anyway) and, well, cost a penny. That's that whole Victorian/Weird Tales idea I had kicking around.

Hm. The cat just leapt onto my lap. I think he wants to type something:


So, if we take my kitty's contribution and isolate a few fragments:


Sad fly. Sadfly? I think the cat wants to be fed.


Movin' on up


1. Get a haircut. Done. I like it.
2. Shave off beard. Done. My chin is exposed.
3. Buy new clothes. Student loan is racing to my house.
4. Get laptop. Will be ordered this week. G4 iBook, with Airport Card. I intend to upgrade the video card.

Tonight I will make veggie pot pie, and possibly a green salad. Maybe beer. That is all.



Oh, the day after my last post I received my tax refund (its late because I filed it late) and my loan was approved. So after getting some beer I picked up Hellboy: The Right Hand of Doom, We3 #1, Daredevil #62-63 (I've been turned on to Bendis' superb writing for this series. I am not a huge superhero fan per se, but I have been interested in reading Daredevil again. Just as I was beginning to read the series, I gave up on comics), Top Ten Volume 2 (the story got very dark in the end) and some other stuff. I have crushed my money troubles under my foot, all who oppose me shall suffer!

@ttack @ d@wn

Wow. There are a ton of typos in the last post.

As school approaches fast I'm now in a position to reflect upon my summer. It was good. I only wish I could have gotten some climbing in, but the week has just started. I do, however, have a deadline to meet and books to return, so that does limit my time outside. I am getting a haircut this week. Wish me luck.



Well I'll be! Summer has become a huge tear in the fabric of space-time, 'cause I have not updated this sucker in awhile! There has been some minor developments since we last chatted. My friend C. has arrived, safe and sound, from Calgary and is doing well. We hung out briefly at the pub a few nights ago and has disappeared since. It's understandable, he's waiting for his sublet to become available and is couch surfing, so I don't mind if I don't hear from him.

There is a small battle being waged in my house regarding chores. From my perspective, I do most of the work and everyone else slacks off. I proposed an observation period that will determine who does exactly what around here. I will make an calendar and record who makes a mess and who cleans it up, being as objective as possible. I know this sounds a little extreme, but sometimes the icy stare of scientific inquiry is the only method to solve domestic problems.

I am currently sipping yummy coffee and wating for my hashbrowns to cook. I've been into food from Provence lately, although the last few nights I have been trying out some Italian antipastos, simple stuff like crostini. The problem with some of the French dishes is the inclusion of fish and fish stock, and I'm a strict veggie. What's really weird is that these recipies are in the Moosewood cookbook, which is a mostly vegetarian restaurant. You would think they would create subsitutes for the non-fish eating crowd.

Oh, and about the best buck-a-slice in town contest. Pizza Garden has gotten less greasy, so I will make a trip to Unc's to see how they handle the grease issue. Unc's has currently won the in "most generous toppings" category.

I am broke. Need student loan. Need comics.


the race

I have a tentative list of goals to complete before school starts again:

1. Get a haircut. Maybe.
2. Trim my beard. I see too many guys with the same beard. It has to go.
3. Get some new clothes.
4. Purchase a laptop.

Doing some major work at the moment. I should be very proud of myself. C. should be in town by now, where the hell is he?


The first words I see on my desk: RFC - office

I woke up late again. I'm not too worried about it though, 'cause I got some writing in and I will definetly make the deadline with some time to spare.

I find it really hard to sleep in this house. It took me almost three years to be comfortable in my old place at night, the creaks and groans our house made spooked me good. My adopted neighhbourhood is noisy at night -- last night someone was making the sound L. and I use to call our cat, a kind of half-whisper, half-whistle sound. This person was right below my bedroom window, presumably calling their own cat or dog. The situation was very creepy. I hope I can get some shuteye tonight, I'm expecting a friend moving here from out of town tomorrow. I'm laying off the horror movies and weird comics for awhile.


Hands on fire

I've just completed my first batch of homemade hot sauce. I found the recipe online and with a few modifications I concocted a simple garlic-chili sauce. The working title is "Volcano Juice" but I'm open to suggestions. I wish I had a digital camera to show the world, so the world is stuck with a written description: the sauce is a warm orange colour, has a thin consistency and has a strong vinegar smell. The recipe called for white vinegar, but I only stock apple cider vinegar in the house. I figured, what the heck? I don't think it would alter the flavour too much, rather the sauce would have a fruity finish or lend some depth to the chilies.

Oh sweet Buddha, my hands are burnin' up over here. I can't even type anymore. . .


Home now

I got home at around 9:30 last night. The air was so cool and sweet, I didn't want to go back into my house.

So there was five of us, and we made our way up Mt. Seymour. There are three peaks to check out before you reach Seymour's summit, which is about 1451 metres. The weather was incredible, a little hot but you can find shady spots along the trail. We had the fortune of seeing a black bear (about 2 years old), two huge ravens and a male buck chewing on some grass near the trail. And a Jack Russell terrier - he was hanging out at Mystery Lake. There's a smaller trail that that bends away from the main trail as you leave/return from the parking lot that takes you to the lake, the coolest alpine lake I've seen in awhile. Lots of alpine bluberries to nibble on.

Because I'm a little sore and tired, I'll encapsulate my weekend in point form:

1. Went to the birthday party and it was a blast. Made lots of noise and drank too much.
2. The party began to wind down at one in the morning, so we went bike riding in the industrial area along the harbour. Keep in mind, I'm not a strong cyclist and I've only just started riding a few years ago. We biked for about three hours, we cruised the city streets past the clubbers and madness.
3. Crashed at my friend's place, slept for two hours then headed home to clean up and get ready for the hike.
4. Hiked, came home, slept alot, now I'm here.


Gotta Go!


Lost track of time there, leisure/writing/reading sprees can do that to a man.

So, I'm gonna help a friend tidy up his house in a few moments (luckily he lives around the corner) 'cause some friends are going over there for his belated birthday party. I'm going to go out on a limb and say I'm not coming home sober. or unbruised.

I couldn't sleep at all last night, and as I sipped my chamomile tea I banged out a few lines for the script and took some notes for the short story. I gave myself a deadline for the story -- I have until September 1st to have a completed draft, plus notes for the next two stories. If I don't hike this weekend (and bore everyone with a subsequent travelogue) then I will isolate myself from the world and work.


salt water

So the weekend was a little hectic.

I set out for some kayaking on Monday, and it was dope. We started out a little early, but the dang bus was late, so we decided to take another route to get up to Deep Cove. That put us behind a little bit but because it turned out to be such a nice day the situation was not at all terrible. After an embarassing attempt at trying to get my feet onto the pedals (when I first kayaked we had no pedals! This was a new development for me.) we set out. We rented the boats for only a couple of hours, though that was enough time to enjoy the water. I love to pour on some muscle and let the kayak soar, L. and I were silent as ninjas as we glided across the smooth water. We paddled near the first bend of Indian Arm, checked out a massive rock that seemed to have been shot out of the water, then we made our way back to the dock. I was crusted with salt water, and I tasted it on my lips for the rest of the day. I met up with R. for some chess and food, and came to the realization that chess is actually quite theraputic - my method of play reflects some aspects of my personality. Interesting.

School was a big hassle. I applied on Monday online, but was denied all my classes. I called the registars ofice and found that my program only allowed me access to certain classes. I rode the train to school this morning and had them change my program to Arts, so now I can take archeaology! Which I am. Well, introduction to archeaology. I applied for my courses in the library and now I'm good to go.

I did some writing and research today, and I plan to definitely do more later. I hear dinner being made. I'm going out for gelato after dinner and watch the sun go down. Maybe at the park. Now I'm tired.


That's a Wrap People

I'm about to hit the hay (so to speak, I don't live in a barn. Or a manger.) so to sum up the week:

1. Summer semester is finished. A very successful venture, to be sure.
2. Picked up research material for the short stories. I will be hunting for material related to the comic ASAP. I am brimming with new ideas, as a result of getting as much history in me as possible. One small revelation: the world does indeed make sense, but it's very complicated and sometimes, it gets really strange.
3. I am enjoying the rest of the summer. Besides reading and writing, I am going sea kayaking on Monday and I plan to get some hiking done before September hits me like a hurricane! Reward yourself if you get my reference. I have no idea where I'm going this year, though. Definitely not Squamish.

Books I am reading:

Still on Shadows over Baker Street, Science: A History 1543-2001, The Greatest Benefit to Mankind: A Medical History of Humanity from Antiquity to the Present, returning to Quicksilver, still giving Living My Life a casual read, and Up Above the World by Paul Bowles (thanks K.). I just picked up a new comic called Singularity 7. It's OK.


I can't get up right now my lower ego is bruised

Ugh. Got up at 2 this afternoon. That will never, ever happen again. I'm going to watch anime and read and eat and then go back to bed.

It is currently raining out. That's what I love about this time of year: the rain is a sweet repose from the flesh-melting heat of August. Take that UV rays! You're not searing me today!


the play people games

I just lost two games at Age of Mythology, and lost a game of chess with my friend R., who was very kind and hung out at my pad and drank tea and made a chessboard with me using masking tape, a Sharpie, and canvas paper.

I have come to the conclusion that I suck at games. All games. I continually lose to other (mostly male) players all the time. Board games, video games, and especially sports. I think it mostly has to do with the fact that I was never a competitive person growing up. I never played sports, and I never joined any kind of gaming club. I was content to hide in my room and draw, write stories (or make up stories using toys) and practice magic tricks. The drive to crush my opponent was never installed into my personality. I guess 'cause I never showed any interest in competitive activities my folks never bothered signing me up. My parents are cool like that.

I do believe, however, that the competitive drive is unhealthy and very destructive, especially in men. I spent most of my early school days not even bothering to try in gym class, I simply went limp or walked in circles or did a half-ass job at the activities. Whenever I did try and was kinda successful, the gym teachers just shrugged their shoulders and muttered a "meh" and then cheered on the gym keeners. So I responded with a "f*ck it." What's funny though, is that if a male doesn't live up to the expectations set out by the curriculum (which is so freakin' gendered), then there must be something terribly, terribly wrong with that male. And the kicker? All the stupid keeners start picking on you, and use your performance (or lack thereof) in the gym as some demented yardstick to measure your worth as a human being.

F*ck that.

So a message to all the kids out there who hate gym: it is a waste of time. Do everything possible to avoid it - call in sick, tell them your religion forbids you to take part, whatever it takes. You can even protest, questioning the value of "physical education" by pointing out that most North Americans are obese, so obviously no one is getting "educated".


Are You Ready for the Awesome Power of Preparo?

The last day of school. A little anti-climatic if you ask me. I have over three hours until my last exam and I'm not prepared. . .well, I'm a little prepared. If I had a superpower, it would be the ability to imitate a prepared person. Behold the enigma that is, Preparo!



Fight Club!

What movie Do you Belong in?(many different outcomes!)
brought to you by Quizilla

Bring it on, Ikea-boy.


Orange lights in a circle

I had an awesome time last night: some old friends from the Island were around and we had a rooftop barbeque. There was beer, and a liitle of everything for the grill - fish, veggies of all sorts. Please keep in mind that I'm a wee bit hung-over as I write this, so just bear with me, ok?

The rooftop (courtesy of W., thanks dude!) that gave us a 360 degree of the city, provided a brilliant backdrop to a reunion of sorts. We chatted over some of the highlights of living on the Island and all the crazy cats we knew and loved. I've alsways said that going back there and bumping into people I haven't seen in a while begin to look like ghosts, or the experience is like stumbling upon a ghost.

It seems like everyone there last night is doing well with their lives. One is teacher, another one is gonna be an editor. Writers, revolutionaries, programmers, painters, adventurers. . .yeah, I'm very proud of the old crew. More later.


Oh yeah.

A Picture Share!
Originally uploaded by doctor paradox.

As you can tell by my friend here, the presentation, while a little scattered, went remarkably well. I cracked some jokes and they ate'em up. I can never answer peoples questions though, I freeze up and forget how to talk. It was gross. But everything else was lovely. Time for booze!

What is that building across the street used for?

Alright. I made it to school. About my project: basically I'm looking at the Delgamuukw v.British Columbia case. The short version goes something like this:

Delgamuukw: We want to claim this territory as our traditional land.
Province: Ummm, no.
Del: Why not?
Prov: Well, you guys didn't sign a treaty, and you have no proof that you have always been here.
Del: Signing a treaty means surrendering our land to the Crown, so no thanks. And as far as proving we've been here all this time, we have an oral tradition that binds us to this land that dates back longer than European colonization .
Prov: You must be kidding! Oral tradition? That kind of evidence is as flimsy as my granny's oatmeal! There is no documentation to prove your claim, so therefore our answer is still a resounding "no".
Del: Hm.

So Delgamuukw takes the province to court, and after the first trial (which was practically rigged) and an appeal Delgamuukw wins his case. This set a precedent in future Aboriginal land claims in B.C., and gave Aboriginal communitites some leverage when dealing with corporations that want to harvest natural resources on their land.

I am going to focus on the initial ruling, and the use of oral history as a source of evidence. Wish me luck.

*Yawn* here's the sun

It is done. A fifty-two page legal document, highlighted and deconstructed to suit my purpose, plus an overview of an essay that critiques the hell out of the first trial. I will give details on the presentation topic later today. Right now, I'm off to get breakfast and finish my notes. Later.


Old habits, new problems.

It is late and I'm just getting started on my stoopid history presentation. I got word that my dad is pretty sick and I'm worried about him despite his assurances. My mom called at noon with the lowdown, she was really upset and maybe a little hysterical. I had to carry the news with me like it was a ding-dang ugly monkey clinging to my back, constantly reminding me that my dad's in trouble. I met my group members for another project in the computer lab, and I ran into into a classmate/new friend and dumped all this on her, while she was editing a paper. So, thanks again M., you saved me a trip to the liquor store.

Wish me luck on this project. Only three classes left, two exams next week and a short final paper. I am counting down the days.


Hm. Not much to say, or write, except my group presentation for Friday is officially under control. It's late and I've been online way too long. Time for a snack and then off to dreamland. Yawn.


The Heart/Mind Scene

Originally uploaded by romanlily.

This pic pretty much sums up what I've been feelin' lately. Props to the shutterbug.


So begins our sordid tale, as our hero wastes his time browsing superhero websites, unaware of the hammer of doom swinging above his head. . .

What I hate, truly and without a doubt, are those free memberships offered online. I am addicted to them. Why are they forged with such malice, luring weary surfers with their siren song? Why can't I delete these accounts? Why are they so numerous? I do not recall any of the tenets of democracy being "saturate the bandwidth with more crap". Oversaturation is not about providing choices, it's about bombarding the hapless consumer with shades of the same mediocrity. Phooey!

One complaint and then you can go: I have a group presentation on Friday. There is one other member in my illustrious group. I have talked to this person on two occasions - at the beginning of the term and last week. I have nothing to bring on Friday. I have four days. The tension mounts.


Mr. Body Massage Machine Go!

O.K. I am ready to go.

Some writing projects I'm working on at the moment. The reason I'm getting this down is to keep myself tuned in to the good writing mojo. Oh yeah, I write drafts and add notes on my Live Journal account: http://www.livejournal/users/j_sting.com

Comic book: The big mutha of a project. I hate the working title so I'm not going to share it.
Film script: A zombie love story that looks at social pressures. 'Nuff said.
Short stories: Historical fiction/mystery/Weird Tales/pulp sci-fi mags from the fifties.
Poetry: I write this stuff all the freakin' time.


Mornings bring the hurt

Hmmmmm. . .another late night writing a paper. . .finished at, like, four a.m. Then played Dungeon Siege and listened to Singapore Sling. . .eating a breakfast of fried up chickpeas with peppers, onion, and dijon mustard. . .not bad.

Stupid Indy. . .I can hear the racecars humming around the track. . .

. . .


The best pizza in town

I have the house to myself, which is good, and my friend has left for the ComicCon, which is bad. Bad because we didn't get to hang out enough (he is a very popular fellow, the entire city wanted to see him) and because another Con will pass me by like a speeding car. Sigh.

So to soothe my troubles, I decided to conduct a little experiment. Now, ladies and gentleman, brace yourselves. What I have to tell you may be shocking, so disturbing that you might tear out your hair upon hearing this.

I like 99 cent pizza.

Now, in my opinion the best cheap slice place in town is Pizza Garden. The ingredients are generally fresh, the slices are not drowning in grease, and there is a good selection of veggie choices (not just "garden" and "spicy"). But recently, a classmate introduced me to Uncle Fatima's (sp?) Pizza. Unc's is a bit more expensive, but holy Jesus on a bicycle I never thought broccoli would taste good on a pizza, but it does. There is so much flavour, the ingredients leap off the slice.

So this afternoon I made a trip to both. The verdict? Pizza Garden was exceptionally greasy today, and one of the options was a sun-dried tomatoe, pineapple and black olive pizza. It wasn't bad, the pineapple and tomatoe gave it a juicy, lively bite, then it was rounded off with the earthy olives. I also ordered the pesto, and it was dry and totally uninsipired. Unc's, on the other hand, offered a pizza with a virtual buffet on the slice. Very generous. Unfortunately, the vegetables didn't work together, the flavours were just mashed together to make the classic "salad" flavour of veggie pizza. I will consider this experiment to be round one.


A great Horse-Head emerged from the foamy depths. . .

I haven't been able to get anything on this dang site for awhile, but I'm impressed with my rigorous writing schedule on the whole school front. I had the fortune of going to the horse races on Sunday, and was able to break even after buying an expensive lunch. The eighth and nineth races were thrilling; the horses I picked for the two races were both #7 (one was named Lord Samurai) and I bet they would place - pretty safe bets, I know, but the odds were not really in their favour. So in the nineth race, my horse was, like, in fourth and trailing to fifth, then he pulled to the inside and swept past the others! The horse was a symphony of muscle and determination, his hooves barely touched the ground. I believe I feel the stirrings of a new addiction.

Picked up Shadows Over Baker Street from the library - a collection of short stories by prolific writers of sci-fi, horror, fantasy and mystery. What are these stories about, you ask? Well, I'm glad you asked. Imagine Sherlock Holmes, plus Watson, Mycroft and Irene Adler, and put them into Lovecraft's world. Yup, one of my favourite fictional characters going up against the Old Ones! Oh, and I'm reading Emma Goldman's "Living my Life" and a bunch of other stuff. But Sherlock Holmes! Cthulhu!


Circuits, friends and beer

Nothing really exciting to report. I'm enjoying the lovely weather from the comfort of my own home, whittling away the hours behind the computer until tonight, when I meet a friend at the pub. As usual, I'm a little nervous, even to meet a friend. Well, there will be others there too.

It's funny how I'm comforted by knowing what all my friends are doing at the moment. One is out hiking (lucky bastard!), one is here in town, a few are on the Island living out their lives. There's a couple of friends in Alberta, but because I have no idea what they're up to I get all diconcerted over their absense. You would think, with such advanced telecommunications, people would remain connected like they're on a long daisy chain. It's too bad technology is shaped by the human heart.


No gin

I didn't get the gin but a nice red from France instead. No mountain, or giant boulder, but a roasted vegatable sandwich with tabouli on the side. I'm glad that this week is coming to a close. I can spend the weekend writng at my lesiure, listening to the street sounds from my office or sitting on my porch with a lemonade.


Wednesday's Menu Special(s)

Ugh. . .grrrr. . .huh?. . . ugh. . .pulled an all-nighter to finish a paper. Sadly, I really didn't have to, but the stupid Amazing Race was on and I got dragged into the living room to watch it. Yes, dragged. The irony is though, is that the paper is for psych. The topic: procrastination. But if I ever, EVER, see the letters A, P, and A together again I swear to Go. . .oops, my head just exploded.

Heh. "Your head a splode".

I don't know how I feel about missing ComicCon this year. I mean, I've missed it since I was born, so I feel I'm not really too worried about it. It would be a neat opportunity to rub up against the bigwigs and then get thrown out by security. But you have to, like, pay to talk to people? I should start doing that.

Elderly Lady: "Excuse me young man, would you know where. . ."
Me: "Whoa, let's press pause for a moment. If you want anything outta me it's not going to be cheap, but possibly messy."
Elderly Lady: "But I just want to know where the bus stop is. . ."
Me: "And I want a cyborg pony. It's a bad day for both of us. Luckily, directions to the bus stop are on special today."
Elderly Lady: "Oh? May I ask how much?"
Me: "$21,678.21"


Tuesday's Menu Specials

As my week comes to a close, and assignments get handed in, I think I'll get the largest, cheapest bottle of gin and make my way up the tallest mountain. One that preferably looks over the city. As I'm halfway down the bottle, I'll pick up the largest boulder and heave it into the city. If I don't get chased away by the park rangers or accidently crush my house, I think I'm gonna go to the horse races and bet my entire student loan on a horse with a funny name, or if the horse's name is Ulysses. A fine name for a horse.

I'm halfway through The Iron Wagon adapted by Jason (I don't recall the original writer) and to date it is my favourite "recent" work put out. I can only read the latest comics a year after they come because my funds are in a strangle hold. Jason uses negative space like a master, creating a palatable tension between the characters with a simple palette: red, black and muted paper-bag brown. I'm a huge fan of nineteenth-twentieth century European literature (Witold Grobowicz is spooky and cool. . .spookier and cooler than goths! Well, that's not too difficult) and seeing a novel adaptation in my "field" is pretty exciting.


Rock n' Roll Post-Secondary School

A little too much work for a weekend. A presentation, plus a paper for psychology. And two assignments for English. I get the impression that profs don't give a flyin' Jesus if you have a life, or other classes that are equally as demanding. I know my academic career can't always consist of 100-200 level classes, and as time goes on the work will have a greater emphasis on thinking out problems rather than banging out paper after paper on topics I wouldn't usually even glance at. I'm getting just a touch burned out on this whole school thing. It had better be worth it.

Just picked up my first Bacchus comic (Eddie Campbell, From Hell) and 1,001 Nights of Bacchus is a lovely read. I find Campbells line work more "free" looking, more spontaneous than his work in From Hell, except when he draws Bacchus and then he gets very tight and serious. I'm getting really stuck on Astro City (Vol. 2) now. It seems these days I only have time for poetry and comics, and I'm only reading poetry I already have but never gave myself a chance to explore. I'm very fond of Hart Crane at the moment, particularly The Bridge, which I believe is his most important book.

I missed the local poerty fest that happened a week ago! All the local bigwigs made an apperance, there must have been over twenty-five poets! I had company from out of town, and I didn't want to drag them out. Bitter? A little.


The Stork and the Frog

The profile section lets you write a story - well, I did, but I went way over the one hundred and fifty word limit. So here it is.

Now this bald frog, who keeps a yellow jar under his arm to hold all the flies he catches, was napping in a hollow pumpkin in Farmer Needle's field. You see, the frog had no name, and a storm had swept him away from his beloved pond and he had to live in this field. He really missed his pond y'know, he missed the way the sunlight rippled across the water, and bright green lily pads bobbed on the waves like little boats. And the thing is, y'see, when animals are taken away from their homes, they lose their real name. I don't know why that is, maybe Nature gets too sad and wants to forget Her friend's name so She won't feel so bad, who knows? Ask the crows sometime, I'm sure they would like to tell you why. Anyway, the frog is sleeping in his pumpkin when a stork landed nearby and waltzed over to see what there is to see, and lo and behold a little frog with a yellow jar under his arm was snoozing inside a pumpkin! The stork lowered his head slowly, so very slowly, to gobble up our friend the frog. But just as the stork was about to catch the frog, our brave little amphibian tossed the jar into the storks mouth! The jar, however, got stuck in the stork's throat, and he squawked and flapped his wings and ran around in circles! The frog perched on the edge of his pumpkin and chuckled. The stork saw him and asked:
"Mr. Frog! Mr. Frog! You must help me! If I can't get this jar out of my throat I won't be able to eat!"
The frog replied, "my dear sir, if I were to remove said jar, you will eat me!"
"I promise I will not!" cried the stork, but the frog knew better.
"Before I help you, you must answer one question for me" said the frog.
"Very well" replied the stork.
"What is the one thing you hate to eat the most?" asked the sly frog.
"Well," mused the stork, "I like to eat frogs (you already knew that) and I love to eat fish, but I really hate eating those who wear wigs"
The frog grinned and said, "If you wait a moment, I will help you."
So the frog dashed away and collected hay from the field and wove a handsome wig, then using a little mud he attached it to his head. He returned to the stork, who was taken aback by the sight of the frog's wig!
"Mr. Frog, what a ghastly thing on your head! I cannot eat you, not in a million years!"
The frog then crawled into the stork's mouth, being careful not to fall, and grabbed the jar, and in one pull the jar popped out of the stork's throat and the frog with his yellow jar landed back into his pumpkin.
"Mr. Frog! You saved me! But since I can't eat you, then maybe I can help you get back to your pond, a pumpkin is no place for a fine frog such as yourself!"
The frog agreed, and the stork let the frog climb onto his back and the two flew back to the frog's pond. Now, the frog was given his name back, but an animal's real name is kept secret from people, what do you think his name is?


It's true. . .

Spelling errors bring picnic baskets to legless kittens.

Frankenfurter, Frankenberry

I need to take a break from horror movies. I've been a fan for awhile now, I remember cruising by the horror section of the video store whenever I went with my parents. They would never rent them for me, but those covers where so enticing, they promised to bombard me with mystery and mayhem. Well, mostly mayhem. I had to depend on friends to gain access to them, or at the very least get a synopsis of the film. My relationship with the genre is borders on the love/hate type - sometimes I do get disturbed and I hate that, but I remain fascinated. I saw two entries recently, Dagon and Suicide Club (also released as Suicide Circle) and now I need I break. Dagon was great, all the Lovecraftian references thrown in (the Miskatonic sweatshirt) plus the build up to a moment of extreme gore equals a finely crafted film. I'm still aabsorbing Suicide Club, but needless to say the film merits a thorough examination. I'm still recovering from that kids voice over the phone, the "ahem" between sentences gave the conversation an unknowable menace.
Too much blood, and too much uncertainity and fear. Some people have that in large doses in their lives, and yet some pour into their hearts like it's made of chocolate. Not to brag, but I have seen films that can make the steeliest stomach projectile vomit on the ceiling, and at the moment my soul could use a rest.

. . .and soda. . .inflates me like a balloon. . .spent half of a three hour class. . .bubbling and burping. . .oh god. . .



Last night I had a conversation with a friend about the merits of the Comics Journal, which in my opinion is a fine magazine and the only one in it's field that is critical and celebatory at the same time. My friend, who I consider to be the most knowledgable person on comics, pointed out that the Journal does not focus on superheroes, or rather levels its gaze on 60's - 70's pop comics. Well, yes, I replied while I wiped my sweaty palm on my leg, they are interested in the subtext, like all those huge groins they drew on Captain America. . .and then it kinda dawned on me that yes, the Journal seems to be excluding an intergal part of comic book history. Granted, some of the first comics were not only superheroes, but also westerns, thrillers (true crime), science fiction (you could argue that sci-fi and superheroes walked hand and hand together in a field of wildflowers) and what not, but my initial assumption was that the superhero genre is the meat of the medium. My evidence? Ask a friend, preferably someone who doesn't read the funny books, and mention the word comic book. This is a simple word association game, anyone can do it. I will wager that the answer will be Superman, Spider-Man, etc. I know this can be a tenuous correlation, but my point is that superheroes had in fact sculpted the medium with their mighty hands. Most kids who read comics for the first time will buy a superhero comic. A large reason the underground comic scene flourished is because it was a response to the dominant superhero genre, and the underground felt as though the Big Two were not telling stories real people could relate to (how can folks appreciate the plight of Bruce Wayne, millionare?)

It seems to me that the Comics Journal, to a degree, are embarassed by their roots, like those who are ashamed of bringing their cousin from the Ozarks to a party. Yes, superheroes still dominate the comics market, and yes the Big Two has royally screwed distribution, and yes most marketing goes to superheroes than to indies, and yes in some ways the superhero genre distorts public perception of what comics really are and what comics can be; holding back an "evolution" of the medium. What is important though, (my dad would say: "what you don't understand is, son. . .") is to be careful on how history is constructed. From the Comics Journal perspective, the superhero genre was unsophisticated, perpetuated stereotypes and damaged the market (which is true) but that's all it was, nothing more. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that is not a balanced representation of history. When historical facts are ignored or modified, it changes the reality of the subject supported by those facts. The result? New social meanings are assigned to the subject, meanings that can repluse or attract. In the case of the Comics Journal, the goal is to repluse. Please don't interpet this an anti-Journal tract, I still read and enjoy the Journal (just lower your price a bit, *nudge nudge wink wink*) at every opportunity, but caution must be taken if the Journal wishes to keep an elitist, oligarchical hold on the medium.


Underwater therapy

Geez Louise, I sound like a ranting lunatic who needs to periodically wipe foam off his lips. Ah well, Poe possibly died from rabies. Here's some books I (a) have finished (b) gave a partial read, or (c) have a desperate need to read:

Bakunin - The Philosophy of Freedom, Brain Morris: I found Morris to be overly critical of Bakunin, possibly to sound objective? Had to return to library. Phooey.

Anarchy! - An Anthology of Emma Goldman's Mother Earth, ed. Peter Glassgold: Bloody good. I danced around my house in a drunken stupor as I read this. Auntie Em was so awesome, she made the men in her era look like complete fools. She will be the subject of many papers, that's fer sure. I would like
to tie in her anti-war articles with Gertrude Stein's work during World War 2.

What Right? - Graphic Interpetations Against Censorship, ed. Robin Fisher: This was fun to read over, it's nice to read comics I haven't seen before from familiar artists. What can I say? Censorship is a complex issue, and it becomes dangerous when we begin talking about expressing political views in the current social atmosphere. Can radical leftists participate in public dialogue, knowing that the public sphere constrains and contorts?

Comics? Oh yes. Walking Dead, Iron Wagon, Astro City, getting through V for Vendetta, Y the Last Man, just picked up Street Angel #2 and it's so much fun.

Haiku? Not for you!

I just got an English assignment back today. I need to rant here.

How the hell can I explain a complex subject, like cultural appropiation in, like, 200 words? What, you want me to write a freakin' haiku?

White author writes story
About Rainbow Serpent
Without cultural context

And before you start counting syllables, and I know you are, contemporary haiku is not necessarily dependant on the 5-7-5 meter. O.K. I feel better. Thank you.

The sky is falling and so is my hair

My first post. . .ugh. . .well, I'm off to school soon and with a little luck I might be able to paste together a presentation for sociology (Social Issues in Canada) next week with my group. Historically, I have never done well in group projects. My chronic shyness has me tied to a short tether pulling me into the dark, so no one can catch a glimpse of me. Sometimes it takes a day of preperation, and some tequila, to talk to strangers. What makes me mad as hell though, is that our project topic is interesting: we are examining how the Iraqi prisoners in American custody are depicted by looking at photographic representations. But my stupid, irrational, ass-backwards shyness keeps making me swallow my tongue whenever I open my mouth! It's high time I take on my self-conscious paranoia and low self-esteem in a no-holds-barred steelcage match, with razor wire strung along the top of the cage and hungry Bengal tigers pacing around us.

Oh, and I spelled "unfortunately" wrong on a testimonial I wrote for Friendster. *Groan*